Lowen
I found Vivyan curled up on our bed my bed, I corrected myself, already feeling the wrongness of the possessive before I'd even said anything out loud, scrolling through her phone with the TV murmuring low in the background. She looked up when I came in, and whatever she saw on my face made her sit up straighter, the phone forgotten in her lap.
"You look like someone died," she said, half-joking, the kind of joke people make when they already suspect the truth is worse.
"Can we talk?" My voice came out rougher than I meant it to.
She patted the space beside her on the bed, and I made myself sit, even though every instinct I had wanted to stay standing, wanted the option to leave the room the second this went the way I already knew it was going to go.
"Three years, Viv." I turned
